


Dogged

by Turacoverdin



Category: Re:ゼロから始める異世界生活 | Re:Zero Starting Life in Another World (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Angst, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:00:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28692864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turacoverdin/pseuds/Turacoverdin
Summary: Short scenes of a Re:Zero daemon AU.
Comments: 58
Kudos: 120





	1. Reinhard

**Author's Note:**

> this is au in that i messed with hdm canon to fuse it with the rezero magic system. this is also au in that subaru is the only one who uses honorifics. why? because i said so.
> 
> a good 75% of the dialogue is lifted directly from the subs.
> 
> partially inspired by Not So Faded Scars by qzmr.

“I’m glad we’re both safe,” Reinhard says, turning to the young man. He looks a bit off, Reinhard sees—average in face and stature and physique, yet outfitted with bizarre clothes and strangely colored hair. His daemon, too, is just a step sideways from normal. She’s a dog, which is incredibly common, but she’s not a breed Reinhard recognizes. She’s of medium size; her coat is a benign red-brown color, with buff markings on her shoulders. Her tail is wagging quickly. Reinhard smiles a little. Dog daemons are always delightful to be around when they’re happy, as their happiness is always so clear. Their threats are clear, too, but Reinhard can see that this tail-wagging is the happy sort. “Are you unhurt?”

“A-Allow me to thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for saving my life!” the young man yelps, raising his fist to his chest. Reinhard blinks. “I, Natsuki Subaru, deeply admire your selflessness!”

“No need for such formality,” Reinhard says, smiling. He’s used to such over-the-top reactions, although this one is admittedly unusual, for the young man has yet to show any sign of recognizing Reinhard. Perhaps he’s foreign? His lack of reaction to Unicorn, too, is fascinating. Most people are scared when they see Unicorn, if they don’t recognize her right away. She’s a rather distinctive daemon, after all. 

“Once it was three against two, they lost their advantage. If I’d been alone, it’d have been different.” Reinhard’s not lying. Had he and Unicorn been alone, they would have chased after the thieves, or the thieves wouldn’t have approached them at all. Reinhard is recognizable as he is, and Unicorn’s presence makes him unmistakable. Any greed prompted by Reinhard’s obviously rich clothes, white and purple as they are, would quickly shrivel up and die in the face of such fame.

“Woah, he’s nice,” says the dog, her long ears erect, and Reinhard does a double take. He’s not proud of himself for being caught off guard, but he certainly wasn’t expecting her to talk. Daemons don’t talk to strangers. They barely talk to anyone outside of their person. To see one break the rules so flagrantly… Reinhard takes a closer look at her. She’s got a strange patch of fur on her back, darker than the fur around it and in a disarray. It looks almost like a wound. It’s not smoking or glowing with mana, though, so it can’t be one. “Hey, don’t you mean six against four, though?”

Reinhard blinks again. He had almost expected the first phrase to be a mistake, caused by leftover shock and anxiety from the thugs. Reinhard has seen such things happen when daemons are too panicked to care about courtesy. It seems that that is not the case. He doesn’t let his confusion show on his face. “I doubt the thugs would do anything as barbaric as to use their daemons to fight.”

“Oh, of course,” says the dog. Subaru laughs nervously. “That explains that,” she says to him, a bit more quietly.

“Uh, Reinhard-san, right?” the young man, Subaru, says.

“You may just call me ‘Reinhard,’ Subaru,” Reinhard says, amused. He doesn’t know what san means, but he feels comfortable in assuming it’s a formal title. If Subaru doesn’t recognize the difference between them, then Reinhard won’t either. “And this is Unicorn,” he adds, gesturing to his daemon. She snorts and tosses her head. Reinhard does not look away from Subaru, curious to see whether he had failed to notice her or whether he was just particularly good at acting unaffected by her. Either way, Reinhard hopes that Subaru’s reaction will assuage some of his suspicions. Subaru seems like a nice young man. Reinhard would be disappointed to learn that he is an enemy.

“Your horse is named Unicorn?” Subaru askes, disbelieving and strangely flustered. One of Reinhard’s eyebrows raises; Subaru had reacted to Unicorn’s name, not her species. Subaru shakes his head; beside him, his daemon shakes out her fur. “Nevermind. Thanks again, Reinhard. You’re the only one who heard me shouting and came to help… Talk about lonely.” He bows again.

“Call me Helena,” the dog says. Reinhard hesitates, then nods.

“Forgive me, but I must ask,” Reinhard starts. If he is having difficulty in piecing together this puzzle, he may as well look for more pieces. “What nation are you from? Your hair, apparel, name, and manner are quite strange.”

“A distant land,” Subaru says vaguely. “Don’t worry, you’ve been forgiven. If we’re asking questions, though, why’s Unicorn named Unicorn? I think _that’s_ a name that’s quite strange.”

“Ah, she was named after the most noble of horses.” Reinhard tilts his head. Helena mirrors him. “Have you not the tales of unicorns and horses in your homeland?”

Subaru makes a face. “I suppose we do.” Helena snorts.

“Anyway, Subaru,” Reinhard says, moving on. He very much wants to press the topic, but he knows better than to do that. Subaru’s answers have been vague so far, and likely avoidant on purpose. He seems the earnest, carefree sort, but Reinhard would rather not scare him away before he can get his answers; for, by now, Reinhard has a great many questions that need answers. “At the moment, Lugnica is a great deal more festive than in peacetime. If you have a problem, I’d be happy to help you.”

“Are you a guard?” Subaru asks curiously.

“You could come to the loot house!” Helena yips, her tail wagging like mad.

Unicorn shifts her weight a bit beside Reinhard. He puts a hand on her side. “The loot house?” he echoes curiously. The name sounds a bit familiar. From the slums, most likely.

“N-Never mind… Forget it. I can’t trouble you with that… I’ll handle the rest on my own, somehow.” Subaru says. When Reinhard looks back to him, his eyes are wide and unseeing a bit scared. Helena's panting loudly—she’s stressed.

“I am quite capable of defending myself,” Reinhard promises. He’d rather not let Subaru get away. Such a strange person at such an auspicious time should be monitored. At the very least, Reinhard would like to know more about Subaru and Helena. “I am not in my guard outfit today, but I am a competent swordsman.”

“Come to think of it, didn’t they call you a master swordsman?” Subaru frowns and shakes his head. “If you’re a master swordsman, you should have better things to do than helping little ’ol me out.” Subaru waves his hands, backing away and turning to leave. Something plips onto the ground, loud in the relative quiet of the alley. Reinhard narrows his eyes. “Are you sure you are not unhurt?” he asks.

Helena takes a step back. Another drop of something hits the pavestones beneath her. “We’ll be going now,” Subaru says quickly. He turns and bolts, Helena by his side. Her gait is pained. His is not.

Reinhard takes a step forward, then uncurls his hand from the handle of his sword. He doesn’t know when he grabbed it. Unicorn dances in place.

“I’ll repay you one day!” Subaru shouts from the exit of the alley.

“Alright,” Reinhard manages to call back. Unicorn tosses her head. “Take care!”

As soon as Subaru and Helena are gone, Reinhard drops to the ground. Unicorn lowers her head beside him. The blood is evaporating, slowly. Quickly Reinhard pulls off a glove and touches his finger to the blood. It sparks, just a little bit, and Reinhard is suddenly afraid in a way that doesn’t belong to him.

He wipes off the blood and replaces his glove. The fear recedes, replaced by Reinhard’s own disquiet. “So it is daemon blood,” Unicorn observes.

“Yes,” Reinhard confirms, running his hands through her mane. He doesn’t say what he’s thinking. He doesn’t have to; he knows she’s thinking it too.

A human’s daemon rarely bleeds. When they are injured, be it by fight or accident, mana comes off them in wisps. Those wounds heal quickly. A demihuman’s daemon is injured even more rarely, as they oft shimmer into intangibility when the demihuman is in danger. This, Reinhard knows, is what results in beast transformations, from a simple sprouting of fur to the demihuman’s entire form being twisted into a beast.

These beast transformations can bleed, as can a demihuman’s distinctive markings of their race—their ears or tails or whiskers or fangs. The beast transformation of a demihuman, like their markings, share the characteristics of a daemon as well. To touch a demihuman’s markings, to tug their tail or twist their ears, is as taboo as it is to touch a daemon itself.

Perhaps, then, Subaru is a demihuman of some sort. Reinhard saw no markings, but he supposed that Subaru’s demihuman blood could be thin, and his markings easy enough to hide.

Yet that does not explain why his daemon was bleeding. Even a demihuman’s daemon bleeds mana, not blood. Demihumans walk the line between daemon and no daemon. Their do not daemons walk the line between soul and flesh, like Helena appeared to.

A legend comes to Reinhard’s mind as he ponders the topic. Scars are not unknown on daemons who have suffered great torment; Reinhard had always assumed that the legends of bleeding daemons were exaggerations on that matter.

Helena had clearly been bleeding, and bleeding blood of some sort instead of mana. Her back, Reinhard now remembers, had borne signs of injury as well—what he had thought to be a strange patch of fur was, in all likelihood, a scab of some sort. It resembled a wound because it was a wound.

Reinhard stands. “Off to find the loot house, then,” he says to Unicorn. She snorts in agreement and Reinhard swings himself onto her back.

He will find the loot house, and he will do so quickly. Reinhard is undoubtedly curious about Subaru and, against his inclinations, a bit worried. Reinhard does not know why Helena is bleeding, but it cannot be because of anything good.

And Subaru was strange, even without the mystery of his daemon’s blood. He looked foreign and acted even more so. His daemon was no breed of dog that Reinhard knew, and she had acted as if she had never known proper decorum or privacy.

Perhaps the strangest part, even when considered in conjunction with the daemon’s blood, was Subaru’s complete lack of reaction to Unicorn. He had reacted to her name when normally it was Unicorn’s appearance that garnered mention. She was, after all, a horse, and everyone knew that horses were mythological creatures. The only living horses in recent memory were the daemons of the sword saints, and to call those horses living would be to invite arguments of semantics.

The blood trail that Helena had left behind has long since vanished as Reinhard ruminated. He taps Unicorn and she trots forward, out of the alleyway and into the crowd. He steers her carefully in the direction of the slums. A bubble of space opens up as people back away from Reinhard’s daemon and gawk at her hooves, at her tail, at her mane.

Yes, Reinhard decides. He will find Subaru, and eventually, no longer how long it takes, he will find answers.


	2. Rem

“Subaru?” Rem asks, stepping towards the open door. It’s dark and it’s late and it’s the perfect time to search Subaru’s room for any sort of malicious substances. The door’s open, though, and the lights are on, and there’s no noise coming from the room, and all of this is not quite suspicious but still strange.

Emilia shushes her and Rem steps into the room. Rem blinks, then bobs her head. If Mistress Emilia wants her to be quiet, then she shall be quiet.

Emilia is sitting on the floor, Rem sees, and Subaru’s head is in her lap. His eyes are red and puffy. Besides them, Helena sleeps with Jun curled up next to her. Jun’s white fur is bright, even in the low light; he looks so small next to her.

It is not winter, Rem knows. Jun’s fur is bright white. It should not be. Ermines change coats with seasons; Rem has never heard of one who’s coloring is always white. Perhaps it is related to Emilia’s status as a half-elf. Perhaps it is not.

“Is Subaru just asleep?” Rem asks. She’s asking because she doesn’t see why she should exercise caution over such a trivial thing. She’s asking because she’s worried, because already she knows Subaru is uniquely incomprehensible, because already she could see the way he was fracturing today.

The broken pot, Helena’s flinches, Subaru’s frenetic energy… Rem was not the best with people, she knew, but she could recognize this as not good. Perhaps she wouldn’t have noticed had Helena not been so scarred. The dog—a Carolina Wild Dog, Subaru had explained, and Rem had wondered what a carolina was—had been tracking blood all over the house all day. Little drops, for the most part. Rem almost didn’t notice them. Katóteros had drawn her attention to them. For once, she wasn’t useless.

Rem lifts her hand and strokes Katóteros in silent apology for her silent crime. She knows that she shouldn’t do that—she shouldn’t hate her daemon. No one hates their daemon. To hate one’s daemon is to hate oneself. But Rem can’t help it. Every time she looks at Katóteros, at her drab brown feathers, at her little hooked beak, she can only see her failures. Even her name is a reminder. Katóteros. _Inferior._

Male kestrels are colorful, bold, and bright. Katóteros is not. She looks more like Ram’s Anóteros, except smaller and weaker. Anóteros, _superior,_ is a raptor, and he acts as one. He is superior. Except now hi swings are clipped and he’s stuck in this flightless form, and it is Rem’s fault. Were it not for Rem, Rem and Katóteros, Anóteros would be soaring the skies like the proud merlin he is. Ram would be able to use her magic. She’d be able to add her and Anóteros’ strength together. But instead she is struck. They are both stuck. It is Rem’s fault, and Katóteros'.

“He looks like a child, doesn’t he?” Emilia says softly, pulling Rem from her musings. Emilia is stroking Subaru’s hair gently.

“It appears Subaru cannot do any more work today,” Rem observes. She makes an effort to lower her voice a little. She will not fail any task assigned to her.

“Yes, he’s done for the day,” Emilia says, still very soft. “What a bad boy, taking a day off on just his second day of work. When he feels better, you can punish him.”

“Seeing him like this, I almost don’t want to.” Feeling this way is strange. Rem had ceased her plans to kill Subaru already, as her sister had asked her not to. But Rem had not abandoned her suspicions entirely. When she’d overheard her sister’s conversation with Master Roswaal, she’d known that she was right to keep them.

Even without that confirmation, Rem would have been suspicious. Subaru was suspicious. He looked strange and spoke strange and acted strange. He’d grabbed her hand as soon as he’d woken up, Rem remembered, and though at the time she’d thought it was an intentional breach of personal space or perhaps some awkward attempt at seduction, Rem thinks that his motivations were likely not as unclean as she suspected. He was just acting bizarre. Rem thinks that perhaps that is what is normal for him. He is an enthusiastic worker, at least, if not an always good one.

Rem blinks. She’s started thinking of Subaru positively again. She should not do this; if she is to attempt to evaluate his threat level to the mansion and its inhabitants, she should be unbiased.

Helena, too, is not easy to evaluate. When Rem first saw her, she was bloody. Rem had assumed that it was someone else’s blood, and she had been disgusted. What daemon would attack a person? It was clear, though, as time went on, that the blood was Helena’s own. Days later, when it had wisped off in strands of dark mana, Rem caught glimpses of scars and wounds. The strangest part was that now, looking at Helena, Rem can see wounds that she could not remember seeing before Subaru woke up.

Rem does not know where the wounds came from. She does not know why Helena can bleed. Rem knows that daemons should not have wounds. She knows that daemons should not bleed. Helena flinches when Rem speaks up or moves into her field of vision. Rem flinches every time she finds blood on the carpet. She flinches every time one of Helena’s gruesome scars break open. Sometimes Rem thinks that she should kill Helena, that she should kill Subaru, because they are suspicious and strange. Sometimes she thinks she should kill them because to do so would be a mercy.

Helena is talkative, like Subaru. It disturbed Rem, at first, but she feels as though she has gotten relatively used to it. Anóteros certainly seems to enjoy it—he appears to take great delight in insulting Helena, and occasionally Subaru himself. He’s not been this talkative since Ram lost her horn. Rem can’t help but like Helena and Subaru for that.

Emilia looks up and smiles. Her face is so, so soft. Emilia, too, has been newly vibrant. Rem thinks that she must like having friends. “Yeah.”

Rem steps away. Rem cannot be soft. Rem must be strong. Rem is inferior, Katóteros, but she will protect her sister with all her remaining strength. “I shall inform my sister that Subaru will be useless for today.”

“Rem,” Emilia says, loud enough to reach Rem but still quiet enough to not disturb Subaru. “Subaru is a good person.”

A good person? Rem looks at Subaru. His face is so innocent. His eyes are so red. Tear tracks stain his cheeks, and Emilia’s dress.

Rem looks at Helena. Her fur is patchy. One leg, askew, has a thick scar running around it. As Rem watches, she shifts in her sleep, pulling it under her body. Jun blinks open his shiny black eyes, then closes them, seemingly content.

Rem would prefer not to kill him, she realizes. She bows, then leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Katóteros (Rem's daemon) is a female kestrel. Kestrels are small birds of prey. Male kestrels are very colorful. Kestrels have traditionally been used in falconry and were considered to be the bird of the servants.
> 
> Anóteros (Ram's daemon) is a male merlin. Merlins are small birds of prey. They are approximately the same size as kestrels, but appear larger. Merlins have traditionally been used in falconry and were considered, along with the peregrine falcon, to be the bird of the emperor.


	3. Emilia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one was painful, argh.
> 
> once again, the vast majority of this is lifted directly from the anime subs. i wrote this thing for a single dialogue line, which was the only one i added.

Subaru sits up. “So I didn’t die,” he says slowly. Emilia notes this, quietly and in the back of her mind, the same way she’s noted all of Subaru’s nonsense.

“Subaru,” says Emilia.

“That talk with the royal candidates..”

“Subaru,” repeats Emilia. He’s not looking at her. He needs to look at her. They need to talk.

“I see. Then let’s head straight back. We need to work out a plan for the selec—”

“Subaru,” Emilia says, insistent this time. Jun scrambles to hide in her hair. His coat blends in almost perfectly. “Let’s talk, okay? I have some things I want to ask you. A lot of things.”

Subaru still won’t look at her. Helena’s awake now, too, and she’s panting where she lays on top of the bedsheets. She's not talking. She's been very talkative, and now she's not talking. “Yeah, I guess you do…”

“Why did you end up, well, fighting Julius?” Emilia asks, as tactfully as she can. She has many questions, but this is the easiest. “There must have been a reason, right? Knowing you, it must’ve been important—”

“I wanted to get him back,” Subaru cuts her off.

“Huh?” Emilia shifts back, startled. She’d...she’d hoped that he...

“I was being stubborn. He said I was pathetic, powerless, and unworthy of you. He was trying to distance me from you, and I hated it. That’s why I fought him.”

“Just for that?” Emilia asks, incredulous. Disappointed.

“Emilia-tan.” Subaru still wouldn’t look at her. “Emilia, you wouldn’t understand.”

“I see.” Emilia knows what she has to do. She doesn’t want to do it, but she will. She'd hoped it wouldn't come to this. “Roswaal and I will return to the mansion tomorrow. You will stay in the capital to recover.”

“Wait a minute.” Subaru is looking at her now. Helena’s ears are pinned back. Helena’s been quiet. She’d been talkative when Emilia first met her. “Huh?”

“Wasn’t that our agreement?”

“But wait a—”

Emilia carried on. “You came to the capital so Felis could heal your exhausted gate.”

“No, wait a minute! How can you suddenly...I…”

“Because...” Emilia looks down. “When I’m with you, you always push yourself to do the impossible.”

“That’s not what I’m saying...I just—”

“Just?” Emilia echoes. She feels calm. Very, very calm. Jun is a reassuring weight around her shoulders.

“I just wanted to do something for you, so I…” Subaru does not look calm. Helena’s tail is wagging, now, fast and tense. The sheets under her are soaked red.

Emilia doesn’t know if daemons are supposed to bleed. She’s never seen one bleed like Helena does, and seeing it feels wrong. She’s thought about asking Subaru, but that’d be like someone asking her why Jun still has his winter coat, so she never has. She didn’t want to push Subaru away. She didn’t want to hurt him.

“For me?” Emilia repeats. She doesn’t want to hurt him now, either. She pities him, a little bit. “It was for you, wasn’t it?”

“No...I just wanted to do something for you—”

Emilia tosses her cloak at him and stands. She’s not crying, but she’s close to it. She’s not shouting, but she’s close to it. “Stop telling lies about how everything is for my sake!” She shakes her head. “Coming to the castle, fighting Julius, using magic...Are you saying that was all for me? I never asked you to do any of that!”

Emilia lowers her voice. It takes effort. “Hey, do you remember what I asked you to do?”

“I..”

“I asked you to wait at the lodging with Rem. I asked you not to use magic because using more would endanger you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t do as you asked,” Subaru apologizes. That's not what Emilia wants him to be sorry for. He looks so scared. Helena is shaking and bleeding and whining besides him. Emilia should stop and apologize, but she keeps seeing Subaru, beaten and bloody and lying on the ground. “But you’re wrong. You’re wrong! I...I didn’t do it for myself.”

He puts his hands over his mouth and turns away, towards Helena, who’s staring at Emilia and Jun now, silent and beseeching. Begging. “You won’t believe me, Emilia?”

“I want to. I want to believe you, Subaru.” Emilia looks down. It’s true. She’s been believing him all this time—she’s been not asking questions. But he’s hurting her and he’s hurting himself and it needs to stop. It’s her fault. She knew something was wrong but she hadn’t done anything, and now it’s festered and rotted into...into whatever this is. “I want to…But you’re the one who won’t give me a reason to!” She lowers her voice again. “You promised me…But just like that, you threw it away, and came all the way here! You won’t keep your promise to me, and you ask me to believe you? I can’t do that! I can’t!

“Hey, Subaru,” Emilia looks at him. “Why do you keep trying to help me like this?”

“Because you helped me...”

“I...helped you?”

“Yes. You don’t even realize how the things you’ve done for me have saved me.”

“No, I don’t, Subaru.”

“I don’t expect you to…But it’s true! You saved me! So everything I’ve done has been to repay you.” Subaru’s desperate. So, so very desperate. Emilia can’t help but pity him more. He’s swathed in white bandages. Helena is swathed in red blood.

Emilia moves away. “I told you, I don’t understand!”

“Maybe you don’t, but please listen to me!” Subaru begs. “It’s the truth! You were the—When I first came to this world, you were the—” and then Helena yelps and he chokes on nothing and draws back in on himself.

“Once again, you won’t tell me anything,” Emilia says sadly. Jun hisses. He’s probably been hissing this whole time

“Why won’t you understand? I thought, if anyone could understand...it’d be you.” Subaru stares down, then turns to Helena desperately. “I can...I can make you understand. You’ll see, if you touch Hele—” and Helena yelps again.

Emilia files it away in the back of her mind, then catches herself. She shouldn’t be doing this. She shouldn’t be trying to solve Subaru’s mysteries.

“The version of me that lives within you must be amazing. She can understand everything, even if you don’t explain it to her. She can feel all your pain, sadness, and anger as her own.” Emilia smiles. Her voice cracks. She'll give him one last chance. She shouldn't, but she wants to, so she will. “I can’t understand if you don’t tell me, Subaru.”

“I’ve…” Subaru sounds so defeated. His hand clenched on his chest. Emilia’s breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t help but hope. “All this time, haven’t I made everything work out all right?!” And Emilia knew that he wouldn’t tell her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jun (Emilia's daemon) is an ermine, also known as a stoat. Stoats are small weasels with brown and white coats in the summer and white coats in the winter. Jun has a white coat year-round. Stoats are opportunistic carnivores capable of killing rabbits larger than themselves. Ermine fur is popular as a garment material. In some mythology, stoats are considered bad luck; in others, they are considered symbols of purity.


	4. Julius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's this? original dialogue? in _this_ fic??
> 
> i have no idea whether i've gotten julius' character right. for some reason, he's the only one with an internal monologue. feedback is, as always, appreciated.

“Julius,” someone calls, and Julius looks up from his sword. Regret and shame course through him at the voice. Besides him, Canis stands at attention. “Come with me. I’m going to explain things to Emilia and the loli in the mansion.”

Julius lowers his sword. Subaru looks casual. Helena is pacing next to him. “With you there, it’ll be more convincing,” Subaru continues. He sounds unenthused. “Just take it as a sign of my repentance for going nuts in the castle.”

Julius smiles and stands. _Subaru can let go of differences,_ he thinks to himself. _Subaru can put his grudges past him. Why can’t you?_ “I see. Understood. If that will help the discussion to go more smoothly, do not hesitate to use me.”

“Also,” Subaru says as Julius walks past him. “You were the one who put a spirit on me, weren’t you? Explain that. I get that you’re a spirit arts user.”

Julius stops. “More precisely, I prefer to be called a ‘spirit knight’. I do use the spirit arts, of course.” He raises his head higher. His next words slide out without his permission. He knows that he has no reason to reaffirm his strength like this, but— “But that has not prevented me from training with the sword.”

“Eh? And you were the one who set the little red one on me?” Subaru lists to the side a little bit, tilting his head like a dog. He is, by all appearances, completely unbothered by Julius’ shameful posturing. Helena tilts her head too. _Unworthy of being a knight,_ Julius thinks, lightning-quick, before he can stop himself. _Canis knows better than to reveal any emotions._ Canis is a knight’s daemon—a lean wolfhound, noble and strong. Canis doesn’t talk or move or tilt his head when he’s curious. “What are spirits, anyways? I get that there are different types, and stuff, but where’d they come from? What’s the difference?”

“‘Set it on you’ is a harsh way to put it,” Julius answers, after a moment to refocus on the conversation. “I was only having her, Ia, secretly protect you.” He pauses to consider the second question. He wants to answer well. “And spirits are...Hm. There are different theories, but most believe that spirits are proto-daemons, of a sort. The daemons of animals and insects and plants.

“You know that spirits can become great spirits, yes?” Julius wouldn’t bother to ask this question of someone else, but he’s come to learn that Subaru’s knowledge is strange and patchy. Another pang of regret echoes through him. He shouldn’t have publicly humiliated and hurt the boy.

He looks down at Helena and the regret intensifies.

Canis doesn’t move or twitch or do anything to show his shame. When Julius was younger, before he knew better, Canis would lean into Julius’ side, would lick his face. Canis doesn’t do that now.

“Great spirits?” Subaru echoes, clearly thinking. “Like Puck? So you’re saying that he was formed from a whole bunch of smaller spirits?”

“I cannot speak for this Puck in particular, but yes, that is the most common method of spirit formation.”

Subaru nods, absorbing the information. His expressions are so transparent. Julius finds him strange. An oddity. Dangerous, but not harmful. He regrets beating him. “By the way, what was that thing you did when you broke the illusion?”

“A high class of magic known as Nect.” Julius looks down. Once again, his failure had hurt Subaru. _Perhaps it is I who is unworthy of being a knight,_ Julius thinks for the nth time. “It connects the gates of all who are in range, so they can communicate with each other. However, it appeared to work a bit too well on you.”

Looking down like this, Julius can see that Canis’ ears are tucked. Canis glances up and sees Julius watching. His ears swivel forwards again until he is stoic, as befitting a knight’s daemon. Helena is sitting besides Subaru, and like always Julius restrains himself from flinching when he sees her. She’s staring, eyes wide and glazed, at Canis. She has so, so many scars. Lines around her limbs, frostbite around her neck, stab wounds on her back. Her fur is patchy in some places and completely gone in others. Blood drips onto the ground. Julius knows it’s from her—who else could it be from?—but she has so many injuries that it’s hard to tell which one is bleeding.

She didn’t have this many scars before the beating. When did she get those scars? Why does she have scars? Why does she bleed?

Felis thinks her scars are creepy. Felis and Silvestris both don’t like her, Julius thinks, although Silvestris doesn’t speak. He just watches her, purring, and he looks more like the wildcat he is than the domestic cat that he often pretends to be. His purring is not the pleased kind, Julius knows. It is the self-soothing kind—like the warning tail-wag of a cautious dog. Sir Wilheim and his grey-headed ern pity her. Tank hops towards Helena and preens her, when she thinks no one is watching. Julius is jealous, and he hates himself for it.

“I thought I was about to lose myself.” Julius looks at Subaru, and he’s staring down at the ground, at Helena. His face is drawn and frustrated. Pained. So, so easy to read.

“For the spirits to mistake the tuning is unusual. You may have a strong affinity with the spirits, perhaps.” Julius means it as a compliment, a bit. He means it as a distraction more than anything else. Subaru shouldn’t look like that. _You did this to him._

Subaru snorts, but lightens up. Helena’s gaze shifts. Her eyes are no longer glazed. She huffs out a little dog-laugh. When Julius first met her, she shouted at him and Canis. Throughout the fight—no, it wasn’t a fight—throughout the beating, she snarled and insulted him. She wouldn’t shut up. _Creepy,_ Julius had thought. _Not befitting of a knight._ He wishes she would talk, now. She hasn’t said a word since that half-elf, Emilia, left.

“Sadly, the only spirit I ever made friends with was a gray cat.” Subaru jokes. Julius thinks it’s a joke, at least. He doesn’t understand Subaru. He should understand Subaru. Subaru, with all his loyalty and strength, is a better knight than Julius. Subaru makes a weird face. “Kinda ironic, isn’t it?”

“How so?” Julius asks. He needs to know more about Subaru to understand him.

Subaru pauses. He’s conflicted, Julius can see. He probably didn’t mean to say that. “Oh. Um. My mom’s daemon was a big grey cat.” He’s looking at Julius weirdly. “My dad’s was a basenji,” Subaru says slowly. Helena’s ears are flicked back.

Julius blinks. He doesn’t know what a basenji is. “A basenji?” he echoes politely.

“What, you guys don’t have basenjis here, either?” Subaru huffs a laugh. His next words have a practiced rhythm. “They’re very incredibly intelligent and loyal dogs. Very playful, very good for families. They’re very noble dogs, too—high energy and well loved. They don’t bark at all, which makes them very popular. Instead, they sing. Basenjis are probably among the oldest of dog lineages in the world. Oh, except you don’t have them here, so I guess not.”

Subaru’s not looking at Julius at all, now. “Helena is a Carolina Wild Dog,” he says.

_This is going wrong,_ Julius thinks, because he was supposed to be making Subaru feel better, but something’s changed. “Those must be very loyal dogs as well,” he says, just a little desperately.

“Mm. Only sometimes. They’re very hesitant with strangers.” Subaru’s not talking to Julius, now, either. “The Carolina Wild Dog is a recently domesticated dog. Many of them are still feral. The American Dingo, they’re called.” He shakes his head, back and forth, like a dog, like Helena doesn’t, like Canis doesn’t, and then looks back at Julius and grins too wide. “Ah, but I didn’t come here to ramble about dogs! You better not leave me to go to the mansion alone! I’ll be counting on you, jerk!”

Subaru points at Julius accusingly and then whirls around and leaves, Helena limping along at his heels. He waves at the villagers as he passes them, calling out greetings and messages of support, and they all stop in their packing and wave back. Maybe Helena should have been a cat, Julius thinks idly, remembering Silvestris’ purrs. But Helena is a dog, through and through, with that loyalty of Subaru’s. Julius and Canis watch as Helena stumbles and falls. Subaru doesn't stop for her to pick herself back up. Julius winces when she falls. Canis, as always, doesn’t react.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canis (Julius' daemon) is an Irish Wolfhound, referred to only as a wolfhound in Lugnica. Wolfhounds are tall sighthounds that were bred for war, hunting big game, and fighting lions, wolves, and bears. They are often very reserved and intelligent; although wolfhounds are generally considered tolerant and patient, their individual personalities vary widely. The wolfhound lineage is an old one, but the wolfhound's large size is likely a new development. Due to their height, Irish Wolfhounds often suffer from a variety of ills and have incredibly short lifespans.
> 
> Silvestris (Felis' daemon) is a European wildcat, referred to as a wildcat in Lugnica. The scientific name of the European wildcat is _Felis Silvestris_. European wildcats have tawny, buff, or grey-brown fur, and typically have stripes. Like most wildcats, they are fairly elusive, and are easily mistaken for housecats. 
> 
> Tank (Wilheim's Daemon) is a Grey-headed Fish-eagle. Fish-eagles are also known as erns, and grey-headed fish eagles are colloquially referred to as tank eagles. Grey-headed Fish-eagles are stocky birds that eat primarily eat fish and hunt by sight. They build large nests and return to the same nest every year.
> 
> Kenichi's daemon is a Basenji. Basenjis are smart and playful dogs. They are very active and often incredibly beloved by those who come in contact with them. Basenjis have upright ears and tawny fur with splashes of white around their chest, neck, and muzzle. The Basenji is a basel breed; its lineage is less obscured, and thus likely older, than most dog breeds', and it is the progenitor of many other breeds.
> 
> Naoko's daemon is a grey, or blue, British Shorthair. British Shorthairs are reticent and intelligent cats that are not very vocal. They generally do not like cuddling, but they are very loyal to their chosen people and they can purr very loudly. They are good with children and other pets, as long as they are introduced correctly.


	5. Otto

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> otto best boy
> 
> tinyyy edits after watching s2e15. expect more, for this chapter or the next, when i watch s2e16.
> 
> lets play the 'guess when the author got bored when transcribing the scene' game. no points for winning.

"What do I do?” Subaru chants desperately, hands over his ears. “What do I do? What do I do?” Besides him, Helena pants great heaving breaths. She’s covered in blood, and her every exhale is a whimper.

Otto—Otto pauses. He’s angry. He hasn’t felt this angry in a long time, and he doesn’t know whether he’s angry at Subaru or himself.

Subaru’s not normal—or, more accurately, Helena’s not normal. Otto hates it, but he was scared of Helena at first. Almost all daemons have scars, Otto believes. It’s a theory more than anything else, but he thinks that if someone were to check under a daemon’s fur or feathers, they’d be covered in little scratches and marks. But it’s not obvious, and people don’t like daemons that are different—just look at the treatment of demihumans—so people pretend that their daemons aren’t scarred. And the people with obvious scarring get strange looks and rumors and myths builts around them, because people don’t want their vulnerability to be acknowledged so clearly.

Ramalan has little nicks in her ears. They’re not obvious unless someone’s looking for them. Otto often forgets that they’re there.

Helena has nicks in her ears and lines around her legs and scabs on her back and frostbite on her little stub of a tail. Her fur’s grew back a bit after Otto first saw her, and for a time she no longer looked like she got in a fight with a pair of scissors. It didn’t make Otto more comfortable around her—instead it just made him wonder what injuries he couldn’t see, because he can already see so many.

It doesn't matter, now, because her fur is patched again.

Otto had tried asking Subaru’s friends about Helena, once. “Is Helena okay?” he’d asked Ram.

“Why do you care about that dog?” Ram had countered, flippant yet accusing.

Otto had shifted awkwardly, already resisting the urge to apologize and flee. “I’d like to think that I’m Subaru’s friend.”

Ram had glared. “Pfeh! Then you are a worm like him.”

Otto had looked at Ramalan, who was not a worm. Ramalan was a rabbit. Rabbits were not worms. Otto looked back up at Ram and opened his mouth to articulate this point. Ram glared harder. On her shoulder, her daemon ruffled his feathers and glared, too.

Otto fled.

He thought about this interaction often, because he couldn’t tell whether Ram didn’t understand his question or just didn’t want to answer. He thought, too, of Anóteros’ clipped wings, and Roswaal’s daemon’s strange habit of shedding fur everywhere. He thought that maybe Ram’s standards of daemon normality were off.

Otto thought about asking Emilia. He thought about asking Subaru himself. He couldn’t do it.

Now he’s looking at Subaru, who’s chanting hysterically to himself, and Helena, who’s whimpering and whining and bleeding. Otto thinks that he probably should have asked, because daemons aren’t supposed to bleed.

“Would you like me to tell you what you should do?” Otto asks. He’s trying very hard to be calm. Ramalan, in his arms, is vibrating, and Otto doesn’t know whether it’s because she’s scared or angry. 

She’s grunting to herself. She’s angry.

Subaru gasps—a sharp intake of breath, terrified. “Otto?”

“Yes, hello,” said Otto as Subaru sits up. “And good morning. That’s right, it’s me.”

“Mor…?” Subaru looks at him. No—Subaru’s not looking at him. He’s looking at Ramalan. He’s been doing that more, ever since Emilia started the trial. He’s been doing that ever since Helena started bleeding. “What are you doing here?”

“Let’s put that aside for the moment,” says Otto, because _I followed you into the woods_ sounded a little weird, and because that isn’t why he’s here. Subaru’s still staring at Ramalan. Helena’s lips are curled back from her teeth, and her teeth are bloody too. Otto can’t see a part of her that isn’t bloody. “We need to talk about you first. You were deliriously muttering to yourself, with a face like someone about to die.”

“Delirious?” Subaru echoes.

“Yes.”

“I see…” Subaru stands. Helena does not. “You always seem to find me when I’m in the freakiest states.”

“I can’t be a trader without my quick wit,” Otto says, entirely serious. He’s smart. He’s going to do something dumb right now, but he’s smart.

“Sorry, but I don’t have time to crack jokes with you.” Subaru holds up his hand. Otto knows what he’s doing. He’s trying to pretend that he’s fine. Helena is still panting and bleeding. He’s not fine. “I need to think, so right now—”

“You were at your wits’ end, right? And you want to know what you should do?” Otto interrupts, placing Ramalan on the ground and thumping his fist on his chest. Ramalan hops a few paces away. She knows what Otto’s going to do. “Just leave it to me.”

“Leave what to you?” Subaru asks. His eyes are still wide. He’s still looking at Ramalan. He’s scared of her, Otto thinks, and he was not scared of her before. He’d teased her like he’d teased Otto. He’d asked Otto how soft her fur was. He was not scared of her, and now he is.

“Now, listen.” Otto continues. His voice is controlled. He feels kind of light headed. “This will take preparation.”

“Preparation?”

“Yes. First, take a long deep, breath,” Otto instructs, raising his hands. There are probably better ways to deal with this, Otto knows.

“Huh?”

“Quickly, now,” Otto urges, and Subaru closes his eyes and does as instructed.

Otto punches him in the face.

“Stop trying to put on a tough front around your friends, Natsuki Subaru!” Otto shouts. His eyes are burning. He’s not going to cry. He won’t let himself cry. He likes the way his life is going and he doesn't want it to change. “Your head is just a big, jumbled mess, and you don’t know what to do, right?” He flings out his arm. He’s ranting, he knows, but—“You keep having to get into situations where you have to reach out for help, but both your arms and your head are too weak to reach far enough, so you end up wasting time frantically flailing around, right?”

Subaru is staring blankly, unresponsive. He’s shocked, maybe. Otto picks Subaru up by his collar. “Do you hear me? If you hear me, say something!”

Subaru doesn’t say anything. Otto head-butts Subaru.

“What the hell was that for?” Subaru demands, lunging at Otto. Otto steps aside and Subaru tumbles to the ground. Helena is frozen in place, when Otto looks at her. Her eyes are wide. Ramalan’s feet thump on the ground.

Ramalan wants to bite Helena, Otto knows, but Helena has tiny little bite marks bleeding all over her body and Ramalan’s bitten Otto enough times for both of them to know the pattern that rabbit teeth leave in skin. Subaru’s scared of Ramalan. Helena is not as good at pretending as Subaru, and she’s terrified.

Otto and Ramalan are angry. Otto and Ramalan are smart enough to know not to go too far. Ramalan stays away from Helena.

They’d planned this, a little bit, when they were going to confront Subaru. Otto had thought of offering to let Subaru pet Ramalan. He wanted—no, needed for Subaru to confide in him, and letting Subaru see into his soul would be the quickest way to prove his loyalty. The most powerful way, too, perhaps. But Otto’s pushing Subaru and Helena a lot, he knows, and even now Helena is cowering away from Ramalan. Her tail is wagging quickly.  
Subaru probably wouldn’t touch Ramalan, even if Otto tried to shove her at him.

“You finally lost your temper, but you forgot to pay attention to your footing.” Otto goads. He knows he’ll probably regret saying all this later. This wasn’t part of his plan. He's projecting, isn't he? “That just sums you up perfectly, doesn’t it? Pathetic.”

“Oh, is that right?” Subaru flings dirt in Otto’s face and lunges at him again, sloppy and desperate. Otto judo-flips him like a badass.

“That’s really all the strength you have,” says Otto, continuing his semi-villainous friendship speech. “Putting on a tough act for the girl you love is fine. And you can play tough for a girl who likes you, too. No one would object to that.” Otto leans down to Subaru’s face. “But that’s as far as it goes!

“You know you’re not good enough, don’t you? You want to look good for the girl you like, don’t you? You want to be someone the girl who likes you can be proud of, don’t you?”

Otto isn’t supposed to be shouting. He’s shouting anyways, because Subaru's being an idiot. Otto's being an idiot too. “Then why don’t you just accept someone’s help?”

He puts his hand on his own chest, and his other on Subaru’s. Subaru’s heat is beating rabbit-fast. He’s not breathing—he’s frozen. For the first time since Emilia began the trials, he’s looking at Otto, and only Otto. His gaze isn’t sticking on Ramalan. “Someone like..a friend!”

Otto can see the moment Subaru gives in. His expression crumbles. He’s trying not to cry, too, Otto knows. A part deep inside of Otto relaxes. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Helena slump on the ground. Ramalan hops over and Helena doesn’t twitch. “I did rely on someone else,” Subaru rasps. “I asked for help. But it didn’t work.”

“Maybe..” says Otto, quiet. “But I don’t recall ever hearing you ask for my help.”

“No—I mean—” Subaru falls silent, then sits up. Otto knows he’s won.

Ramalan reaches out and nudges Helena. Helena shudders, then nuzzles her face into Ramalan’s side, rocking the little bunny back and forth. Her tail-wagging slows. She lets out a deep, shuddering sigh, and Ramalan rubs her chin on Helena’s fur.

_Good,_ thinks Otto, looking back at Subaru, and maybe it’s not really good but it’s better, and Otto will take it. _Good._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ramalan (Otto's daemon) is a Lilac rabbit. Lilacs are medium-sized dove-colored rabbits that are bred for meat, fur, and show purposes. They are considered excellent beginner rabbits due to their docile nature, hardiness, and adequate mothering abilities. Lilacs are a heritage breed, and a fairly rare one.
> 
> Roswaal's daemon is a Tufted Capuchin. Capuchins are incredibly intelligent primates that have been observed using tools. They are associated with street performances and sideshow acts. Capuchins are the most common monkey featured in movies. Roswaal's daemon is constantly shedding and re-growing fur.


	6. Subaru

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *butterfly man meme voice* _points at fic_ is this hurt comfort?
> 
> there are fifty-six em dashes in this chapter. it was super fun to write but it may or may not be absolute incomprehensible garbage. feedback would be highly appreciated.
> 
> helena doodles at the end

“There are so many knots in my brain,” Subaru chokes out. It’s true. It’s so true. He can’t think right—his thoughts stumble and catch and he wants Otto to believe him but he won’t.

He looks at Helena and Ramalan. How can she stand to be touched by her? Subaru doesn’t know who’s the _she_ and who’s the _her_ but he shouldn’t be thinking the question so it doesn’t matter.

There’s a lot of things that he shouldn’t be thinking, but he’s thinking them anyways, over and over until they tangle and loop together and clog his throat and put pressure on his eyes.

His fingers are trembling, which is—embarrassing, oops. It’s not his brain that’s trembling, though, so Subaru’ll take it.

Hey, it could be worse, right? That’s what he was supposed to learn, right?

Subaru is the only human who’s ever touched Helena. Other daemons have touched her. Cygnus had licked her face and played with her as Kenichi had roughoused with Subaru. Cato had purred and perched besides Helena as Naoko had listened to Subaru’s rambling. Neither Naoko nor Kenichi had ever touched Helena, not that Subaru can remember. Naoko preferred for Subaru to come to her first, and Subaru could brush through Cato when he needed comfort and love. Kenichi, of course, followed Naoko’s lead. It never occurred to him to encourage Kenichi and Naoko to hug Helena, to scratch her back, to rub her ears. He took but never gave, didn’t he?

He should be calling them mom and dad, shouldn’t he? He can’t. Why—why can’t he?

They petted her in the first trial, but that doesn’t count because that wasn’t real. Except it was real enough, wasn’t it? That was the entire point, or something—closure. Ah, but Echidna wasn’t—he shouldn’t trust her. He shouldn’t trust her trials, either. Maybe it was real, but only in that it hurt him, because that’s what he deserves.

He’s supposed to stop hating himself. He’s not doing that. How—embarrassing—no, he may as well say it—think it. How pathetic.

Satella, Satella, Satella. She—she loves him. That’s what she says. But she can’t—she—she’s stuck, isn’t she? She’s stuck, like he is. No one should be stuck like he is. This is—this is torture, isn’t it? But it’s not—Echidna said that he’s just—you can always say that you’re the one suffering the most. He feels like he’s suffocating. Isn’t that ironic?

“Get them out,” Otto tells him.

“You won’t believe me,” Subaru says.

Subaru is the only human that’s ever touched Helena. Satella touches her all the time—caresses and squeezes and kisses. Every time she does, purple-black swims in Subaru’s eyes and ice shivers up his skin. It feels like a violation—it is a violation. Nobody touches another’s daemon without their permission. In Japan, there were coverings and barriers to prevent accidental non-consensual daemon touching, as a side-effect of the crowded cities. There aren’t any things like that here. Subaru doesn’t think they would work—not against her—even if there were.

“I’ll believe you,” Otto swears. “Whatever you say, I’ll believe you.”

Ah, but Subaru doesn’t believe him. Isn’t that funny? Isn’t that ironic?

Otto must be able to see it on his face. “You can touch Ramalan,” Otto blurts out. His eyes widen. Subaru has seen Otto with wide eyes many times before. Otto’s eyes are wide and seeing, though, not wide and glassy. It’s hard to tell the difference, sometimes. It shouldn’t be, but it is.

Oh. Touch Ramalan? Subaru turns to look at Ramalan. She’s hopped away from Helena.

“You don’t have to,” Otto says desperately. “I know—I know you don’t want to and that she—”

“We said we wouldn’t bring it up!” Ramalan shouts.

“Sorry,” says Otto miserably.

Ramalan looks soft. Fluffy. Her fur probably feels nice. Subaru likes soft things. Liked them. The rabbits had felt very, very soft, as they climbed down his throat and buried their muzzles in his face, his torso, but not his arms and legs because they’d already eaten those, hadn’t they?

Puck was soft, too. Puck was—is...Hm. Subaru doesn’t like Puck very much. He’s a bad son-in-law, eh? Why’s he joking about this? No one can hear it.

What was it? Touch Ramalan? She looks soft. Subaru’s thoughts are loops. Loops. Bunny-rabbit loops. Return by death loops. Look, there’s another knot.

“She’s—” Subaru starts to say. _She’s not the same. I’m being stupid. Don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I’m—_ “Sorry.”

Otto stares at him, then laughs incredulously. His eyes are shiny with tears. Subaru reaches up to touch his own face. He’s crying. How embarrassing. “We’re a pair, aren’t we,” he says. “You don’t have to take my offer. I just want you to know that you can, if you want to. I trust you. Please trust me. I’ll believe you.”

Subaru should take Otto’s offer. It’d make things easier. More expedient.

Except—

Echidna’s daemon was an echidna named Witch. He didn’t say anything, until the very end when Echidna offered her deal. Then he’d trundled towards Subaru and put his paw on Subaru’s face and spoke in unison with her. Subaru hadn’t felt anything where he’d touched him. Nothing at all. Witch had disappeared when Subaru rejected Echidna. Witches don’t have daemons, Subaru knows now. He should have known sooner. None of the other witches had bothered pretending. He’d wanted to believe her, though, to believe that she was human, and so he did.

Ramalan’s ears are twitching. She’s big. How much of his flesh could she consume in one bite? Would she chirp if he pet her? Subaru didn’t know that rabbits could chirp, before.

Otto would definitely believe Subaru if Subaru let him touch Helena. Emilia would have believed Subaru if she’d been able to touch Helena, but Satella had reached out and whispered love you into Helena’s fur, and so Subaru hadn’t let her. Subaru had almost given up, then, on having another person touch Helena.

Almost but not quite, because when Rem was eaten by the white whale, Helena had jumped on Emilia. It was stupid. It was lazy. It was desperate. Satella had forgone Helena entirely and clutched at Emilia and killed her instead, and the worst part is that Subaru wasn’t completely surprised.

If Otto pet Helena, would he die, too?

Subaru’s thoughts won’t stay in order. They’re jumping from place to place to place. Like knots. Or not knots—they’re jumping around and multiplying, like rabbits. Not rabbits. Subaru will stick with knots as a metaphor, thanks very much.

Subaru is the only human who has ever touched Helena. He hasn’t touched her in a while—not since she stopped talking. She stopped talking after Emilia left, or thereabouts. He wanted to ask her why. He had asked her why, screamed at her, screamed at himself, and she hadn’t responded. It doesn’t matter. He knows the answer. She can’t talk now, anyways. Subaru can’t help but remember, in vivid detail, the feeling of slitting his own throat, of blood welling up and tendons snapping and skin parting. It was so warm and wet and slick. He was suffocating. He couldn’t breathe. How ironic.

His thoughts are skipping, now, too, hopping from topic to topic. Hopping, like rabbits. Why are there so many rabbits?

Subaru is the only human who has ever touched Helena and now he won’t touch her. He wants to touch her. Sometimes he wants to hold her close and wrap his arms around her body and feel her heart beating against his. Sometimes he wants to hold her down and wrap his hands around her neck and feel her breath stutter and stop. He wants to comfort her. He wants to throttle her. How funny. How ironic.

No, that’s not irony, is it? Irony is supposed to be a subversion of expectations. Dramatic irony, situational irony—what are the other types? Subaru can’t remember.

It’s not ironic. It’s just pathetic.

People aren’t supposed to hate their daemons, but they do. They aren’t supposed to hurt them, either. Betelgeuse had hurt his daemon. The mongoose would put his paws in his mouth and he’d bite down on them and the mongoose would bleed. The mongoose would nip at his fingers and they’d bleed, too, and the two were constantly tearing each other apart, and it was almost—almost—

—No. No, no, no. It was terrifying. Disgusting. Pathetic. Slothful, perhaps.

Is it slothful to run? Is it slothful to die?

People aren’t supposed to hurt their daemons, but the mongoose had bled when Betelgeuse bit him. Helena bleeds, too.

Hey, shouldn’t Betelgeuse’s daemon be a sloth, if he likes it so much? It seems stupid that it wasn’t. Maybe that’s irony. It’s not very funny, but it doesn’t matter. Subaru never makes jokes for himself.

The joke’s on him, though. Put it on his tab. That’s dramatic irony right there, right?

Was Helena a mongoose when Subaru was possessed by Betelgeuse, that first time? Subaru can’t remember. She fought with mongoose while Subaru fought with Betelgeuse, that second time. Subaru can remember that much. It’s hard to forget the feeling of his thoughts unwinding and lining themselves up into someone else’s sentences.

Betelgeuse hadn’t bothered to use his own words when he fought for Subaru’s thoughts. Instead he’d taken Subaru’s thoughts and words and torn them apart and wove them together into his own tapestry, his own monologue. Except it wasn’t his, it was Subaru’s, and he was taking it away, away, away—

Taking someone else’s words directly from their brain—that’s plagiarism, isn’t it? How slothful. Subaru should have sued for intellectual property, or something. Get it? Intellectual property? Brain? Right? Right?

...What was Subaru thinking about?

Knots, knots, knots. Won’t they unravel? Subaru is unravelling. Un-ravel...ravel...rave. Subaru is raving. Subaru is suffocating. What does he do?

What would Otto see, if he touched Helena?

What had Otto asked, again?

Otto trusts Subaru. He shouldn’t. He should know how—how broken Subaru is. Oh, but he does know, doesn’t he, because he can see Helena. Helena, who can’t put up a tough front. Pathetic, useless Helena, always worrying everyone around her and never accomplishing anything. Subaru hates her. He glances at her and she’s wheezing deep, hitching breaths, and he wants her to stop.

That’s irony, again, except Subaru had decided it wasn’t, hadn’t he? So it’s not. Not—knot. There’s another knot right there. How ironi—Stop.

The rabbits ate her the same way they ate him. Her fur is patchy. Her tail is almost gone—it’s just a little stub, now. Her ears look like swiss cheese.

Cheese. Rodents. Rabbits. Knot.

He can’t look at her anymore.

“Touch Helena,” Subaru rasps. Raves, maybe. “You shouldn’t trust me. You—You should—”

Otto sits back. “Are you sure?” he asks, almost calmly. How is he so calm? Subaru’s been taking too long to respond.

Subaru nods, quick, like ripping off a bandaid. He can’t bring himself to say _yes._

Otto blinks, slow, then shakes his head.

Subaru stares at him. “Why are you...why won’t you…?” He can’t finish his question. _Why won’t you touch her? You have so many questions, don’t you? Why aren’t you asking for answers? Why won’t you do it? Why won’t you hate me?_

“Are you sure?” Otto repeats. He sounds sad, now.

Why is he sad? What right does he have to be—

“No,” says Subaru.

“I’ll already believe you,” says Otto, gently. “You don’t have to prove yourself to me.”

“That’s—” Subaru cuts himself off. He’s sobbing. How embarrassing. How humiliating. How pathetic. Otto’s seen him like this, before, though, so it’s nothing new. “You should hate me.”

Otto grabs his hand. It’s balled into a fist. Subaru’s fingernails are cutting into his skin—not bleeding, but when Otto pries his fingers apart Subaru’s tendons ache and his fingers tremble. Just his fingers—not his brain. “Tell me,” Otto requests.

_Oh,_ thinks Subaru, and he opens his mouth and the knots spill out. They unravel and he does, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if the pictures don't show up, try clicking [ here ](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Ohn712pbjkD7cT5G4pXaANsLpAS9pGwj/view?usp=sharing)and[ here ](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1UFIdkTp6mbaqsoFOm96mrnD020QRln4K/view?usp=sharing). if that doesn't work, then oops sorry i lied about the art.
> 
> minor formatting edits 1/27/21
> 
> thank you so much to everyone who commented!! this would fic would a lot shorter without y'all

**Author's Note:**

> Helena (Subaru's Daemon) is a Carolina Wild Dog. Carolina Wild Dogs are recently domesticated mid-sized sighthounds that are very loyal to their small group but anxious or aggressive around strangers.
> 
> Unicorn (Reinhard's Daemon) is a grey Andalusian horse. Horses are mythological creatures in this AU. Reinhard's daemon is a horse due to his many, many blessings. Andalusian horses are well-built and elegant horses that are considered sensitive and intelligent. They were considered powerful war-horses are were prized by nobility.


End file.
